


Clash of Ideals

by skywolf666



Series: Raine and Warin (Byleth And Older Sibling AU) [5]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Arguing, Dubious Morality, Gen, Idealism, Moral Ambiguity, Philosophy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 02:00:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20770667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywolf666/pseuds/skywolf666
Summary: She had hoped to find an ally in him, and had been surprised to find his ideals and hers not only clashed, but made them the worst of enemies. Logic clashed with logic, ideal with ideal, and they were both abruptly and painfully aware that the "what-ifs" they'd spoken of were only a prologue to the conflict that lay ahead of them. (Blue Lions, B!SiblingxEdelgard Conversation)





	Clash of Ideals

**White Clouds**

**Garreg Mach Monastery (Arena)**

**Blue Sea Moon**

**Year 1180**

The gauntlets on his hands felt good as he swung for the training dummy, and as his punch connected solidly and knocked the head clean off of the thing, Warin made a mental note to thank the blacksmith for the repairs. His last mission with his father had been messy and required more fighting than he would have liked, and his favourite weapons had found themselves sorely in need of fixing when he had arrived back at the monastery. His father had suggested simply buying a better pair with the gift the village had stubbornly forced into their hands, and it was a fair suggestion as the marketplace at the base of the monastery did indeed stock fine items and weaponry... but Warin admitted that he had grown rather attached to his gauntlets and wanted to keep using them until they could no longer be repaired whatsoever. He had turned over the reward to his father, and chose instead to use his own gold to turn in his weapons to the blacksmith, who his father had vouched for after his own lance had seen repairs at the foul-mouthed woman's expert hands.

It didn't help that he had made the design himself. Unlike the overlarge and unwieldy gauntlets that most seasoned brawlers wore, Warin had seen fit to streamline his own to make wielding a lance much more easier by removing the need to disarm and then re-arm himself between switching weapons. The gauntlets were more akin to brass knuckles than anything else, the metal stretching across his forearm and into a bracer that reached nearly to his elbow. Fitted into the design was a mechanical spring that he could activate with a press of his thumbs to his palms to unleash three serrated blades that attached to the sides of the bracer to allow for long slashes as well as harsh punches.

It made the weapon tricky to use, and even trickier to maintain with all the fine mechanical work, but it was his pride and joy, and he had no desire to change them if he could. He spent almost an hour a day on weapon maintenance, ensuring the gears were well-lubricated and the blades sharpened, as well as the blunt spikes on his knuckles were always clean and edged to a fine point. More than once his sister had chuckled at his fascination with weapons and his care for them, but he admitted he didn't mind the jests too much. Weapons were simple. They needed care, maintenance, and were either useful, or not. He could handle weapons with ease, and that simplicity made him like his work as a mercenary. If he picked up a lance he found lacking, he could always find, buy, or fashion one that was more to his liking. The same could not be said for anything else in his life.

The doors to the arena opened behind him, but Warin did not turn away from his training at the entry. It was growing dark now, with the moon beginning to rise over the walls, but time was not a concern for him. He had just come home from a mission, and word from his father was that he had plenty of time to rest and recharge himself before they would be setting out again on the archbishop's orders. Training was his ideal way of winding himself down while ensuring his skills remained sharp, and he did not mind an audience. If anything, he had long since learned to tune them out completely, which had become a good skill of his as soon as Raine had grown old enough to hold a sword. Their clashes in camp were legendary, and always tended to draw a crowd if only because seeing the future Ashen Demon and the younger man known only as "the lieutenant" cross blades reminded the men of how quickly a pair of children were growing to surpass them.

Warin's fingers curled, springing the blades free of their holsters, and with a quick turn on his heel he brought his arm down with alarming force. The dummy's chest cut open like a hot knife through butter, and Warin felt his lips quirking faintly with satisfaction. He owed the blacksmith far more than a thanks. Perhaps doubling her fee would be sufficient. His gauntlets had never felt so light, or so powerful. If he brought his own materials next time, perhaps she would see fit to strengthen them even further, or perhaps create an even better design... His mind spun with possibilities.

"You're here once again?"

The voice of his ignored guest immediately brought him back out of his thoughts, and with narrowing eyes, Warin turned away from his work slightly to catch a glimpse of the white-silver-haired young woman that had been haunting his footsteps for the past several days. Ever since his return he had sensed Edelgard's eyes on him, hers and the eyes of that black-haired mage that was never far from her no matter where she went. He could feel her evaluating him from a distance each and every time, as if she was trying to figure him out like a puzzle she was longing to solve, and he admitted that her behaviour was beginning to grow irritating.

Rhea had warned him explicitly not to interfere with the goings-on of the students in the monastery and keep strictly to socializing with the knights, professors, and his sister. He had found no reason to go against her orders, especially when he found no reason to befriend any student that was there in the first place. Only one student had been the exception, and that had been purely accidental due to their beneficial relationship with the greenhouse. When the young man of Duscur had found him searching for flowers for his mother's grave, he had been more than happy to supply him, and ever since then, every weekend, they had been meeting there to check on their plants' growth together. But that was hardly a relationship, and neither had said more then a dozen words to each other each and every time they were together in the first place.

The young princess however... He sensed her intent to speak to him, and it annoyed him deeply at the realization that she had rather efficiently cornered him. His routine was not a secret, and he made no effort to make it one, because most students tended to be long gone by the time he was ready to begin his own regime before returning to the barracks. She must have been observing him for days, figuring out his exact schedule in order to find him alone, and immediately his guard went up as he absently retracted the blades on his gauntlets. He did not turn about to give her his full attention lest she notice the glint in his eye, and instead he responded coolly as he bent down the retrieve the dummy's fallen head, "You knew full well I'd be here, I assume, princess. If your haunting my footsteps ever since I came back has been any indication."

"Future emperor." The correction came curtly and without hesitation, and Warin fought to keep his lips still as he heard the slight tone of irritation in her voice as she spoke to his back. He wondered if she was insulted or just annoyed at perhaps having to make the correction time and time again, but he truly wasn't concerned. He still did not give her his attention as she continued on firmly and with a swishing noise that he could only assume came from her flipping her hair in an annoyed gesture, "I am _not_ a princess. Heir apparent would also be suitable, if you must address me by a title."

"You aren't an emperor, either. Not yet, anyway. Isn't a coronation usually involved?" Warin's reply came just as swiftly, and he heard an audible gritting of teeth as he straightened up and examined the damage he had done to the training dummy. Her eyes were boring holes into his back, but he did not mind it, nor did he really care. She wan mostly unarmed, save for a dagger she had sheathed on her waist, and he doubted she had the courage, or the lack of reason, to attack him simply for showing insolence. He rolled the dummy's head in his hands, noticing the cracked edges of wood with a guilty sort of amusement, and he noted that a portion of his salary would need to be donated, once again, to fixing the damage his training was wreaking on the arena.

"You truly have a distaste for nobility, don't you?" The question came sharp, almost like an accusation, but Warin found himself mostly unmoved by it. If she was hoping to anger him, she was failing miserably. But what she truly wanted he did not know, and so he decided it was best he played it by half-measures, to figure out what it was she was hoping to get from him. There was no other reason she would focus her attention so sharply on him, especially when he had already noticed that she had all but given up on chasing after his sister. Perhaps they had had an argument of some sorts, or perhaps her choosing of the Blue Lions over the Black Eagles had damaged her ego irreparably. Either way, they did not seem to get along, which made her decision to come to him of all people all the more baffling.

"And you have a taste for asking questions you already know the answer to." Warin shot back easily, and he casually set the head back down before turning ever so slightly on his heel so he could get a good look at her. She stood tall and unafraid as she faced him, looking for all the world like she was wearing a crown on her head despite the clear lack of one. The look in her eyes was cool and calculating, and it brought a hint of a cold smile to his face at the familiar glint. How many other nobles had he seen stare at him in such a way over his many years as a mercenary? Too many. It had lost its potency long ago. He shook his head as he folded his arms over his chest and continued on as she watched him without blinking, "You've been following me for the past several days. You, and that little lackey of yours. I'm sure you've done all sorts of digging up on me. Tell me, what've you found? Anything interesting? There must have been something if you've gone to all this effort of cornering me here."

"Warin Briar Eisner, first son of Jeralt Reus Eisner, former Knight of Seiros and known as the Blade Breaker. You're known as his lieutenant before his son, though whether that was intentional or not, I'm unsure." Edelgard admitted as she began to rattle off the facts that her, and Hubert's research had turned up on the man standing before her. He seemed an enigma to many, perhaps because of his unwillingness to speak to others, but it hadn't been nearly as difficult as she had expected to learn of him once she had set her mind to it. His distance to the students meant little to her, or her quest for information, and she proved it as she continued on, "You're as renowned as your family is in the mercenary world. If you haven't fought them, you've been heard of, and are feared for your exceptional fighting abilities. You specialize in brawling, as well as rather competent lancework. It's been said you'll one day inherit your father's title and become his eventual successor. At least, that was the thought before you came here to work for the Knights of Seiros alongside your father... You're also the bearer of a Crest. A Major Crest of Seiros, at that. Inherited from your father, perhaps? Or maybe your mother?"

The last remark made his entire body bristle, and Warin turned threateningly in her direction as his hands curled tightly into fists at his side. It was his one and only taboo, and one that he was always happy, and almost eager, to punish if anyone dared to overstep it in his presence. How many fights had he started, and_ ended,_ because someone had been foolish enough to mention his mother in front of him? It was one of the many of his poor qualities that Jeralt had never been able to break him out of, but he didn't mind it as he tasted iron on his tongue from the sheer rage he felt at her casual mention of his mother. His voice came out in a low growl, giving the only warning he had the mind to give due to her status and his position in the monastery, "I'd recommend you keep your talk of my mother to a bare minimum, princess. Or I'll quickly grow bored of you, and remove you from my sight."

"My apologies. I am not here to insult you, or to begin a fight. I only wish to talk." Edelgard placed a hand above her heart as she bowed her head in contrition, and for a moment, Warin was unsure of her actions. She was so quick to bluntly sum him up in a handful of sentences, but the moment he showed anger and a willingness to toss her aside for offending him, she was even more quick to attempt to ingratiate herself to him. The change of manner was not one he expected, and it made him pause, and she leapt upon the chance as she continued forward, "You see, I believe that the two of us are much alike. I was only hoping to speak to you to see if it was so."

"Alike? You and I? I doubt that."

"You despise nobility. It's clear in your eyes every time you look at me. Even now, you're barely containing your contempt. And I am well aware that contempt is also spread to the Church of Seiros... and perhaps even to the very social structure of Fódlan itself." Edelgard's eyes cut him through as she pointed out the very things Raine had done so not so long after she had become a professor in the monastery. He was unsure whether or not Edelgard's accuracy was unnerving or irritating, and so he settled for silence as a response as he listened to her speak, "If this is true, then we _are_ indeed alike, whether or not that pleases you."

"Even if we are alike, which I still doubt we are, what's the exact point of knowing this?" Warin countered, even though he made no attempt whatsoever to deny her words. They were true, but something about the way she spoke made him think that she was applying things to him that he would reject if she said so outright. She was dancing about with her words, keeping him waiting for her next sentence, and being at her whims was not helping to cool his temper. "What are you hoping for? To be friends?"

"Friends... No, I do not think so. I do not make a habit of making friends. Perhaps comrades-in-arms would be more close to what I would like from you." Edelgard's honesty was as cold as her gaze, and she tilted her head slightly to the side as she watched him appraisingly. He looked confused by her words, and she had to admit it was interesting to watch his reactions. She had not had a chance to speak to him for three moons, ever since he and his sister had leapt into action in Remire, and she had been keeping a very close eye on him ever since then. His sister was a lost cause, but he had potential, and she was eager, but cautious as she approached him, "Your ideals are not so different from mine. About the strong oppressing the weak, and the current system being broken and exploited by those in power. What if I were to tell you that I wish to abolish such things from the world? That in my ideal world, anyone, commoner or noble, can raise themselves up to any sort of position by sheer virtue of skill rather than bloodlines or Crests or the church's sphere of influence? What would you think of such a world?"

"I'd think that world would be an utter nightmare."

Edelgard drew back, startled by the sheer venom that dripped from the older man's tongue as he looked at her with scathing contempt in his navy-blue eyes. His hands were no longer clenched, but instead were relaxed and hanging by his side, but his body seemed tense and coiled like a serpent preparing to spring on its unsuspecting prey. Most disconcerting of all was how even though his eyes blazed his expression seemed smooth, almost unemotional, and it was another reminder that though his sister seemed quite different from him, and most people in general, that they were indeed related. Still, she could not simply give up just because of a response she had not anticipated, and she pushed forward, "Why is that?"

"Your ideal world wouldn't change the root cause of systemic oppression, which seems to be the ultimate goal of such a world. And by ignoring the root cause and instead only seeking to quell the symptoms, you're only ensuring that your world would fall back into the old ways, but simply underneath a new regime. That is why your world would be a nightmare." Warin explained bluntly, and he had to admit a small part of him took pleasure in seeing the way her eyes widened as if she had a difficult time believing he was speaking out against her. As if she had fully expected him to side with her out of sheer logic, or whatever perceived similarities she believed they had. He almost expected better, but he was not truly surprised by her reaction. It made sense. She did not know him as well as she believed she did, despite their similarities, and he was proving this to her now.

Edelgard's eyes flickered as she looked him over from top to bottom, and he could almost see the gears turning about in her head as she attempted to figure him out. His words did not match his actions, not entirely, nor did they line up with what she had learned about him. He and his father had left the monastery shortly after a fire, shortly after the death of his mother, and all of his hatred towards the church and the system was exactly what she had expected and counted on. This however was not in her plans, and her eyes narrowed as she asked him, almost hesitantly, "Then... just what exactly is this root cause that you speak of?"

"Human nature. Hubris, lust for power, greed... I could go on. Abolishing the system means that you must create a new one to take its place... but it doesn't change the core dynamic of your world, where the strong rise, and the weak are stepped on in order for them to stand taller than their peers." Warin's arms crossed tightly over his chest, and he took care to keep his hands relaxed to stop himself from accidentally activating his bracer's blades. He was surprised with the way her eyes widened, as if such a thought had never occurred to her, and it only made his smile turn all the more coldly amused. Of course it hadn't, and that only made him continue with an errant flick of his fingers, "Take away nobility, take away Crests, and even take away the Church of Seiros... You still haven't taken away humanity's arrogance and their desire for power. The strong will continue to thrive at the expense of the weak, but their means of doing so will have changed. That's all your ideal world will accomplish."

Edelgard felt her spine stiffen with anger, and it was a fight to keep it from reaching her face at his complete dismissal of the power of man. It was as if he couldn't believe there was any good in those who were strong, in those who had power, and she wondered how she could have made such an error in judgement. It wasn't only that his ideals were close to hers, but rather they moved far past her own and turned myopic. He had no faith in anyone. Not a single soul. And she wasn't sure if that made him even more understandable, or somehow less as she asked him in what she hoped remained a neutral tone, "And if I could guarantee that it would not?"

"Then you're even more deluded than you sound. You want to change humanity's very nature, all on your own? It's an impressive desire, but a futile one nonetheless. You're not the first person to decide that the system must change, and you certainly won't be the last, but you will end up as all of them have. A footnote in history as another failure of a ruler. You can't change our species as a whole, regardless of what you do to the Empire once you ascend the throne." There was no disguising his derisive chuckle at her response and his own answer, and he ran a hand through his hair before tilting his head as he looked her over in return. She seemed shocked. Insulted, even, by his words. Had anyone ever spoken down to her before in such a manner? He wasn't sure. But he admitted with a guilty sort of pleasure that he didn't mind being the one to do so.

He gestured with his arm, indicating a wide open space as he continued with a fierce glint in his eye and a scathing heat to his voice as she continued to stand and stare at him, motionless, "Even if you tore the entirety of Fódlan down and remade it into your utopia, you'd ultimately end up changing nothing. If anything, you'd be making it worse. Because while the strong trod on the weak, make them into their scapegoats, and squeeze them for everything that they have to make themselves stronger... The weak well remember the boots that drove them into the dirt. And then someone who remembers will rise up, and demand change, just as you are doing. And what will you do then? If they rise up strong, and challenge you and your way of rule? Will you kill them for threatening your ideal world? Or will you step aside to allow them to lead, because they have become strong enough to raise their voices in defiance?"

Edelgard had no answer as she digested his words, and she felt her hands clasp into fists at her side. He was challenging her? Daring to suggest he knew exactly how her rule would go if she chose to follow her desired path? His arrogance both astounded and infuriated her, and it was a battle to bite her tongue and not retort out of anger. He was trying to jab into her, to provoke a reaction, and silence was her only answer as she understood she had made a mistake in assuming his ideals matched up with her own. He would not understand. It was impossible for him to understand.

"If your answer is the latter, then you've only proven my point. And from your silence, it seems that it is. Your world would be a nightmare, and a nightmare created by shedding endless rivers of blood." Warin took her silence as a reply, and from the heated look in her eyes, he could tell he had struck a deeply-buried nerve. Perhaps it was the first time someone had challenged her. Either way, he had to admit it did not matter, nor did it change the feeling of scorn that was surging through him at the way she scowled at him as he continued firmly, "The current scions of power will not go quietly into the night as you destroy the systems that gave them their power in the first place. Perhaps you can convince them to aid you, that the change would be in their best interests, but really, isn't that just hypocritical if you wish to tear it all down and start anew? Rebuilding from the ashes means that all must be destroyed first. Some nobles may ally themselves with you, others will defect, and most certainly a war would ensue... If that's the path you intend to take in order to build your world, then you're already doomed before you've even started. No kingdom born by bloodshed ever had a happy ending when it was its time to come crumbling down into the annals of history."

Edelgard could not help it. It astounded her. Yet his reasoning made her want to hear more, if only to understand just what kind of man she was now facing. He was not her ally, would never be her ally, and she took the defeat with grace... but she wanted to learn from him all the same while she was here. There was no other point in staying if not to hear him out despite his clear disdain for her ideals. Any piece of information she could glean from him would be useful, and she looked to him with sharp eyes as she remarked, "You speak as if you've seen it happen before. As if you're capable of predicting the future."

"It's nothing as outlandish as any of that... I've just a keen passion for history. Especially history of fallen nations and kingdoms and empires. Their stories are always the same, no matter the culture or language or currency. And the one cycle that's pervaded us since the dawn of time, since humanity first was born, was that the strong feed on the weak, until the weak rise back up and beat down the strong, or are utterly destroyed. And all my time as a mercenary has proven it to be true." Warn shrugged off her words easily, though he understood exactly why she said it. He was not his sister, with her strange gifts of turning back time to avert disaster, and even she was not capable of turning back the wheels of time so far. He was just a man, well-read, perhaps, but still a man. A weak, helpless mercenary that was always at the beck and call of those with the clink of coin, and he acknowledged it with a sombre, "I am one of the weak. And the strong constantly wish to use me as they please. That will never change, not until I become the strong, and even then, I'll still be susceptible to mistreating the weak just as I was mistreated. It's the way of things, and I have accepted it for what it is. You'd be wise to do the same, before you take on a path you can't turn back from."

"You're lecturing me about the future...? You don't know _anything_." His words successfully pricked her temper, and though she hated herself immensely for it, hearing him speak with such certainly made her anger reach a boiling point. How dare he speak of her world as if it was such a futile endeavour? He knew nothing. Less than nothing. His arrogance was blinding, and his cowardice even more so, and it made her jaw clench as she muttered through gritted teeth, "You speak as if you understand all of humanity, but in truth, you're simply arrogant. You look down on your fellow man and refuse to see the potential we have. Potential that is purposefully kept down and reigned in because of a corrupt and unjust system that was forced upon us without our consent. A system you are too cowardly to change, even though you acknowledge that it exists! That system _must _be torn down!"

Warin shrugged his shoulders, though he felt the hair on the back of his neck rising as he understood her attempt to speak hypotheticals had long since evaporated into something much more dangerous. He could not prove it, this was nothing but a heated exchange between two individuals with completely clashing world-views, but he did not like, or trust it all the same. She would not grow so heated about a conversation of "what-ifs". She would not be so angry with his refusal and derision if she had no stake in this ideal world she spoke of. It was an effort to feign disinterest, to feign being unconcerned, but he did so anyway as he lifted his hands in a sign of surrender, "Then do as you will. I can't stop you."

"No. You cannot." Edelgard acknowledged that fact with a cold smile of her own, and she looked to him with a degree of bitterness and pity. His conviction was unshakable, and his skills were far beyond anything she could ever hope to find in any regular mercenary band... but he had proved this entire endeavour to be useless. It almost saddened her, knowing it would go to waste, but she knew better than to waste such emotion on him. He would never waste anything of the sort on her. Still... She could not help but remark quietly, almost wistfully, "However... It remains a pity. I hoped you would be my ally. That my deeds or words would be able to sway you. I see now that they cannot. If they would've... I would have made any and all efforts to make you my ally."

Edelgard spared him no more words, knowing they would be fruitless and also acutely aware that his eyes were boring holes into her back as she turned on her heel and walked away from the arena's training grounds. He would be suspicious of her from here on out, and she was fully aware her miscalculations in reading his personality had been a great misstep. He would always doubt her intent, always watch for her, but such a thing did not bother her overmuch. She now knew where he stood, and more importantly, where his blade would rest when the push finally came to shove. She did not enjoy this knowledge, but it did give her a sorely needed advantage. She could better arrange her chessboard now that she was aware of his loyalties, and she would do so without hesitation.

Her hand moved idly to the dagger at her waist, and she continued down the path that would lead her to the second floor dormitories. Night had fallen during her conversation, and left her both fuming, and spent. She had not meant to lose her temper, but it had happened all the same. He would pay for making her lose control of herself, but that was a selfish indulgence she would put aside for the moment as her thoughts ran wild with each step that took her closer to her room, 'When it will be best, then... to see him removed...? Perhaps I should take on Hubert's suggestion, if only to keep him out of play at the vital moment... but to rouse suspicion so soon... Tch. To lose out on both talents... No. I will not mourn. I do not need them. I began this plan... and I shall see it out to end by myself if need be. It will be done... It must be done! No matter the cost, no matter the resistance... No matter the pain.'

**Author's Note:**

> AN:
> 
> Disclaimer: Warin's thoughts and opinions on Edelgard are not my own. Their personalities are designed to clash this way, and do not reflect my own views. I am aware that Edelgard is a highly divisive character, but this chapter was not in any way, shape, or form meant to demean or bash on her characterization, motivations, or ideals. This is simply a chapter devoted to the conflict between her as a character and Warin as a character, as well as showcasing that they are incompatible as allies. I understand if some of his words were insulting or demeaning, but please understand this is not my view, and merely his, and I often write characters whose personalities are different than my own. With that said... I apologize again for offending any Edelgard fans, and please know I don't actually hate her, and do understand her a great deal!
> 
> With that said, please also note that I am not going for an anti-church route, despite anything that may seem otherwise. All these current fics are being written at a time when full information of the church is still not available, and the characters are only reacting to the knowledge they know at the time, and the circumstances around them. This will change in future chapters as more is revealed and the characters grow together and separately.
> 
> I'm not very skilled at political writing, and I'm quite aware that shows. My strong suits are romance and angst, and maybe the occasional smut, but Three Houses is certainly not the type of game where I can throw those three genres around freely without paying attention to the very political element in the game. I hope with more work I can refine my skills, since they'll certainly be useful as I continue to write fanfiction and non-fiction. And I really do want to keep writing for 3H. It's just such a different game than I'm used to, but I'll keep up my practise!
> 
> Thank you as always for reading this far, and please drop a review should you feel the need! I hope you have a good one, and happy future reading!
> 
> Mood: Sore.
> 
> Listening To: "Natural" - Imagine Dragons
> 
> ~ Sky


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